


There

by iamfitzwilliamdarcy



Series: Finding Fatherhood [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2251191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamfitzwilliamdarcy/pseuds/iamfitzwilliamdarcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Zuko needed him, Iroh was there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There

“Excuse me, General, can I talk with you?”

The captain was a gruff man, not young, but younger than Iroh. with a beard that was just starting to be peppered with gray. He stood, tensed, at the edge of the doorway, and Iroh glanced up from his game.

“Of course, Captain,” he said, standing. “If you’ll excuse me,” he added to the crewmember he was playing and joined the captain at the door. Iroh led him two doors down to his own quarters and shut the door firmly behind him. He turned to the captain expectantly.

“I just thought you should know the young prince is crying. I heard him, when I passed by his rooms, that is,” he said without preamble. He stood stiffly, looking over Iroh’s shoulder.

“His injury--,” Iroh started but the captain cut him off, meeting Iroh’s gaze sharply.

“Begging your pardon, General, but I’ve got three boys myself, and those weren’t tears over an injury. Normally, I’d let him have his privacy, but all things considered, I thought it best you knew.”

Iroh gave him a gentle smile. “Of course.” It hasn’t been long enough Thank you, Captain. I will attend to Prince Zuko.”

The captain nodded and left quickly. Iroh sighed, running a hand over his face before making his way down the hall to his nephew’s rooms. He paused outside the door, and sure enough, he could hear the soft sounds of a boy who was trying very hard to cry quietly.

He rapped his knuckles on the door. “Prince Zuko, may I come in?” 

He ignored the barely audible “go away” and creaked the door open just enough to slip inside. It shut softly behind him as he stood for a minute, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting.

Zuko lay on the bed, unbandaged eye squeezed shut as if to prevent the tears from coming. He was fighting a losing battle though (as he often was, Iroh thought sadly), and the tears streamed down his face steadily. Iroh moved to his bedside and reached out his hand to settle on top of Zuko’s head. Zuko’s breath hitched as he struggled harder to stop crying.

“It’s alright, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said softly. “There is no one here to see you, and no shame in crying.”

“It hurts, Uncle,” Zuko sobbed, voice high from pubescence and rough from tears, and Iroh knew he wasn’t talking about the burn. 

He was just a child, Iroh thought. A child, so desperate to be good, who still thought the world of his father, and Iroh didn’t know how to tell him, to make him believe, that his father was wrong, so very, very wrong. He didn’t know how long he’d stay a sad child before anger and bitterness took over his compassionate heart, before hope and passion faded into despair. He’d been a father before, had known when best to show love and how to raise a child, but then his son died, and Iroh wasn’t sure if he’d known anything after all. He didn’t know if he could do it again.

But when Zuko had sobbed himself out and murmured, mostly-asleep, “I’m glad you’re here, Uncle,” Iroh knew none of it mattered. Zuko needed him, and he’d be there.


End file.
